


Real Feelings

by molossiamerica (afjakwrites)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: He Got Hot, M/M, VERY SLIGHT rusame for jealousy factor, alfred has a mix between a lumberjack and a dad bod, arthur kirkland is thirsty, kinda one-sided rusame, this is shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 11:20:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16809595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afjakwrites/pseuds/molossiamerica
Summary: After parting ways following high school, Arthur never expected to see Alfred Jones again–let alone fall for him.





	Real Feelings

Arthur remembered the first day he met Alfred Jones. It was the first day of school–Arthur was a junior at the time, Alfred a freshman. Alfred had sauntered into the school ten minutes before the first bell rang, tall and handsome and surrounded by people of every grade level, all of them laughing and talking loudly amongst each other. He was wearing his usual winning smile, his bright eyes alight with carefree happiness; an expression Arthur would become very familiar with over the next two years. **  
**

As Alfred and his group walked through the halls, Alfred appeared to be scanning the walls for something. Just as he was passing by Arthur, he stopped in his tracks and glanced down at a piece of paper in his hand. He then bid his friends goodbye with a cheerful smile and approached Arthur, standing directly next to him.

“Hey! Looks like our lockers are next door. That makes us locker buddies, huh?” Alfred had greeted, towering over Arthur despite being two years his junior.

Arthur had hardly paid him a glance, already cursing his luck as he reluctantly greeted the obnoxious freshman at his side. “I suppose so,” he answered, “I’m Arthur Kirkland.”

“Whoa, dude, you’re like totally British! That’s awesome! How long have you lived in the States?” Alfred asked, far too excited for seven in the morning.

One of Arthur’s green eyes twitched. “About a year and a half.”

“That’s awesome, man! It’s nice to meet you, Arthur. Have you ever considered a nickname? What about Artie?” Alfred suggested as he opened his locker, set his backpack on the floor in front of him, and began haphazardly throwing his school books into it.

Arthur scowled. “No, I have not considered a nickname, nor would I ever pick ‘Artie’ if I did,” he huffed, making his annoyance clear.

To his surprise, Alfred merely laughed at Arthur’s apparent distaste. “Dude, you’re kinda grumpy! In a cute way, though.”

Arthur felt his face go red at the compliment and quickly grabbed his books. “I’ve got class.” He said hastily, turning and heading toward his classroom without another word.

Behind him, he heard Alfred call out, “bye, Artie!”

Arthur tightened his grip on his books and rounded the corner with his teeth gritted and his face red.

From there, Alfred and Arthur began to see a lot of each other. Arthur quickly grew accustomed to Alfred’s boisterous personality and obnoxious behavior; he was loud, yes, but it quickly became clear that he had no malicious intent. He was simply enthusiastic about all that he did, and Arthur couldn’t bring himself to fault Alfred for something like that. It was rather endearing, really, and by the time Arthur’s junior year ended he was somewhat fond of Alfred–the younger boy had even pestered Arthur into reluctantly admitting that they were friends on one occasion.

Thus, Arthur entered his senior year and Alfred his sophomore, but Arthur quickly became aware that things had somehow changed between them. Alfred acted more flustered than usual, and took to flirting with Arthur whenever possible. At first, Arthur tried to brush it off as Alfred being funny, but it quickly became clear that Alfred liked Arthur in a way that couldn’t be purely platonic. Arthur was flattered, really–Alfred was undeniably handsome and he really was sweet–but there was something about him that prevented Arthur from developing any serious attachment to him.

Alfred had always seemed so immature to Arthur in high school. When asked about his goals for the future, Alfred would always throw his head back in a laugh and then shrug, claiming that anyone else’s guess was as good as his. He didn’t seem to take school seriously, often complaining about having lost an assignment or getting a bad grade on a test. This was a sharp contrast from the goal-oriented Arthur, who had had his entire high school, college, and professional career planned out for himself by the time he entered the eighth grade. Thus, Arthur couldn’t help but to not take Alfred seriously; to him, Alfred was a directionless child. As sweet and as well-intentioned as he was, Arthur knew he was well out of Alfred’s league.

So, when Alfred had confessed his feelings to Arthur in the final days of the school year (as if Arthur hadn’t known–Alfred had always worn his heart on his sleeve, and at times his actions could only be compared to that of a lovesick puppy) Arthur had shot him down as gently as possible. Then he’d graduated, promptly moved out of state for university, and the pair had lost touch.

Until now, it would seem, when Arthur abruptly stumbled directly into the chest of a particularly tall individual on his way out of the supermarket.

“Whoa, Arthur Kirkland? Is that you?” Asked a familiar voice, and Arthur’s head jerked up to gaze into the face of a much older, but still easily recognizable, Alfred Jones.

Arthur’s eyes went wide in shock. He could hardly believe his eyes. As if by some miracle, twelve years had somehow made Alfred even more attractive than he’d been in high school. His height was still absolutely staggering and he still had the same big blue eyes and bright smile, but he’d filled out considerably, his entire body seeming thicker and more muscular. His physique reminded Arthur of a lumberjack in the best way possible. His jawline had become more pronounced, his cheekbones sharper, his eyelashes thicker and his lips plumper. And, it seemed that he’d modified his style as well–in high school, Alfred had been prone to wearing rather eccentric outfits with bright, clashing colors and a raggedy bomber jacket which he seemed to think paired perfectly with everything he owned. Now, though, Alfred was dressed rather modestly in a navy blue polo shirt which hugged his torso perfectly. The shirt was tucked into a pair of khakis, and for shoes he wore a pair of sneakers. His only accessories were a brown belt and a nice-looking watch on his right wrist.

“Alfred, I… It’s nice to see you again. It’s been a while,” Arthur said, offering the man as warm of a smile as he could while still trying to process the incredible change in Alfred’s appearance.

“Dude, totally! It’s been like, ten years or something, right?” Alfred asked, still in that loud, exuberant voice of his. Apparently some things never changed.

“Twelve, actually,” Arthur corrected. “I’m–I’m surprised to see you here. What brings you to the city?”

Alfred laughed, “I live here! I’ve been here for about two years now. I didn’t realize you were living here, either. Last I heard you were going to college in New York.”

Arthur nodded. “I was, yes–I got a bachelor’s degree there, and my master’s in English here.”

“Wow! That’s super cool, man, what are you doing for work these days?”

“I work with Vargas Publishing Company right now, as well as doing some freelance work in my spare time. And you?” Arthur asked, although he already knew the answer. Alfred had always been flighty–he was probably job-hopping right now, working as a bartender at some nightclub on the weekends or delivering pizzas or something of the sort. Not that Arthur thought that those were bad or less-respectable jobs–he just knew they weren’t very stable, much like Alfred.

“I’m a professor of Physics and Astronomy! Best job ever, man! I love teaching.”

Arthur blinked, unable to contain his shock at such news. “Wow, I–Well, that’s quite an accomplishment. What led you to do that?”

“Well, I started getting really interested in science and math in my junior year. I was totally in love with it by the time I was a senior. Went to college, double-majored and got a bachelor’s, then went for my PhD a little later. It’s been awesome, man. When you talked about how exciting college could be all those years back, I never believed you, but dude, now I get why you had that crazy plan for yourself,” Alfred laughed.

Arthur couldn’t help but to be incredibly surprised by Alfred’s words. He could hardly believe what he was hearing–the ditsy, directionless young man he’d known in high school had somehow become exactly the man Arthur had always wanted. Alfred was handsome, driven, intelligent, and successful. Arthur could hardly believe it was the same person he’d known all those years ago. If it weren’t for Alfred’s uniquely carefree and cheerful personality, Arthur would be half-willing to believe that the man had been cloned and replaced by a smarter, more successful version of him.

“Well, that’s fantastic, Alfred. You must be proud of yourself.”

Alfred brought a hand to the back of his neck and smiled sheepishly. “Well, I just did what I felt was right and I was lucky enough for everything to work out. It’s funny that you work at Vargas Publishing, though! The CEO and his husband are close friends of mine.”

Now Arthur was openly gaping. “You know Feliciano and Ludwig?”

“Well, I’d say so, considering I was in their wedding and all,” Alfred joked, seeming oblivious to Arthur’s rapidly increasing shock. “Ludwig was my roommate in college for a while. Now we teach together! What’s it like working for Feli?”

“Well, it’s–it’s quite nice, really. Feliciano is extremely happy and it’s hard to upset him. I’m lucky enough to consider him both a colleague and a friend. I’m quite surprised we’ve never run into each other before–I’m invited to most of their get-togethers and the like.”

“I don’t go to them a lot ‘cause they always try to set me up with someone,” Alfred laughed, and Arthur’s ears immediately perked up at the hint that Alfred was single. “Do they do that to you too? It drives me crazy!”

“No, not too often, really. But I’ve made it very clear that I’m focused on my work and that I’m not actively seeking a relationship.” Arthur replied, although he was beginning to think that he just enough room for a relationship–if that relationship were to include a tall and handsome blond with delightfully thick thighs and a polo shirt, of course.

“Haha, you’re the same old Arthur, aren’t you? Guess you got everything you wanted, huh?” Alfred asked, seeming genuinely happy for Arthur.

The Brit gave Alfred what he hoped was a subtle once-over and his mind immediately supplied, _not quite everything_. He nodded his head anyway, “yes, I’d say so. I certainly can’t complain.” At least, he couldn’t have two minutes ago. Now he’d come face-to-face with perfection, and suddenly he felt as though he’d made a horrible mistake by rejecting Alfred all those years ago.

“That’s awesome, man!” Alfred beamed and clapped Arthur on the back with one large, strong hand. “Listen, I gotta get some groceries and then I’m heading home to cook dinner, but we should get some coffee and catch up sometime! Wanna exchange numbers?”

Arthur nodded more enthusiastically than he’d intended and took Alfred’s phone from the American’s hand, blushing a bit when their fingers brushed. He quickly inputted his contact information, wondering to himself how he’d managed to be so fortunate. Perhaps Alfred still harbored a bit of the affection he’d felt for him in high school. The thought made the corners of Arthur’s lips twitch upward as he passed the phone back to Arthur.

“See you around, Artie!” Alfred exclaimed, waving goodbye before bounding into the store.

Arthur turned around to watch Alfred walk in–he couldn’t help himself. He was glad he did; the view was fantastic. Arthur left with a giddy spring in his step and Alfred on his mind.

* * *

Two weeks later and Arthur was seated across from Alfred at a table nestled against the picture window of a small, secluded cafe downtown. Arthur was ten minutes early and Alfred was five minutes late, but Arthur couldn’t find it in him to be annoyed when Alfred stepped into the cafe with his silky blond locks windswept and his tan cheeks flushed red from the cold, looking utterly gorgeous.

“Sorry I’m late,” Alfred grinned as he shrugged himself out of his coat. This time he was wearing a white button-down tucked into a pair of navy dress pants and for a moment Arthur flattered himself with the thought that Alfred had dressed up to see him, but then Alfred said, “I just had a meeting with the dean and we talked for a little longer than I expected.”

“No problem at all,” Arthur replied, straightening in his chair. “I hope the meeting went well?”

Alfred shrugged his broad shoulders and then shook his head. “We… don’t always see eye-to-eye, but that’s alright. We both want what’s best for the students at the end of the day.”

“I feel the same about Feliciano and I sometimes. He’s a bit too lenient, I think.”

“Maybe you’re too uptight,” Alfred teased, grinning.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Of course you would say that. What was it you always said? _‘Go with the flow_ ’?”

Alfred laughed, his whole face seeming to light up with the action. “Hey, I stand by that!”

Arthur couldn’t help but for a smile to take over his lips as well; Alfred’s laughter was simply too infectious to be ignored. “Why does that not surprise me?” He asked, the amusement clear in his voice.

“Y’know, it’s good to see that some things never change. Right, Mr. Class President?”

Arthur couldn’t but for a smile to come to his face at the reminder of their time together in high school. The memory of Alfred’s confession drifted, unbidden, into his mind and suddenly he remembered Alfred’s hands taking his, the American looking so nervous in a way he rarely did as he stuttered his way through the words “ _I like you a lot_.” Oh, if only Alfred would repeat that again now… Arthur suppressed a dreamy sigh at the thought, then realized what he was doing and jerked himself out of his stupor.

“So, what do you want to eat? This is on me.” Alfred said as he picked up a menu.

“Oh, no, Alfred, I couldn’t possibly–”

“Nu-uh, no protests. I’ve got this one. It’s not every day that a man gets to sit down with the president, y’know?” Alfred joked, and Arthur couldn’t help but for his cheeks to go a bit red.

“Thank you, Alfred,” Arthur smiled, hiding his face behind his menu.

Alfred smiled softly at Arthur and nodded. “‘Course. So, tell me–”

“Professor Jones?” An unfamiliar voice cut in, causing both Arthur and Alfred to look toward the source of the interruption.

An impressively tall, bulky man stood before them clothed in a thick white sweater, slacks, and a scarf wrapped around his neck. He had pale hair and dark blue eyes, and seemed rather happy to see Alfred.

“Ivan! Hey, man!” Alfred beamed as he stood up, immediately wrapping the man in a hearty embrace. Arthur felt an odd pang in his stomach at the sight—especially when he noticed the blush that stained both men’s cheeks. Alfred turned back to Arthur with one of his hands still resting on the man’s back. “Arthur, this is Ivan Braginski. He teaches Astronomy next door to me!”

Arthur stood up and smiled politely, offering his hand to the man. “It’s nice to meet a colleague of Alfred’s. I’m Arthur Kirkland.”

“Ah, thank you. It’s nice to meet you as well. How do you and Alfred know each other?” Ivan asked as his large, cold hand gripped Arthur’s hand tightly and gave it a few firm shakes. Arthur met his eyes and he couldn’t help but to get the impression that this man didn’t like him for some reason.

“Believe it or not, Arthur and I were friends in high school! I actually had a big crush on him back in the day!” Alfred laughed cheerfully while Arthur went red in the face.

Ivan continued to stare at Arthur. He was smiling softly, but the expression didn’t seem to reach his eyes. “Is that so?”

Arthur didn’t know why, but he felt the sudden urge to brag and nodded. “I remember, for Valentine’s Day in my senior year, he brought me a book of poetry and some chocolates, and he had the sweetest blush when he gave them to me,” he said, recalling the occurrence with genuine fondness. He hadn’t had a crush on Alfred in high school, but even Arthur had been flustered when Alfred had approached him with such a sweet and romantic gift.

“Hm. That does sound sweet. He’s so cute when he blushes,” Ivan returned, grinning slyly as he looked to Alfred.

To Arthur’s surprise, Alfred went pink at Ivan’s words and gave him a playful shove. “Whatever, man. D’you wanna sit down with us? Arthur, do you mind?”

One of Arthur’s thick brows twitched, but he shook his head and forced a smile to his face. He could already tell he didn’t like Ivan very much–he clearly had a crush on Alfred. “Of course not. Please, sit.”

Ivan nodded his thanks and took the seat in the middle, resting his hands on the table in front of him. Arthur and Alfred returned to their places as well, and after having their orders taken the trio began to talk.

“So, Arthur, what was Alfred like in high school? Aside from his crush, of course. Any embarrassing stories?” Ivan asked, turning his eyes to Arthur with the same cold, calculating stare he’d had before and that smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Arthur, for his part, actually let a genuine smile slip as he remembered one particular day. “Once, as we were leaving the school in the wintertime, our friend Kiku slipped and fell on the ice,” Arthur began, his grin widening when he heard Alfred groan aloud. “Alfred proudly proclaimed that he was going to save him and ran over, only to slip on the ice and go sliding directly into our principal’s minivan face-first just as she was coming out of the school.”

Ivan grinned, seeming genuinely amused by the story, and turned to Alfred. “It sounds as if not much has changed,” he chuckled, and Arthur was immediately aware of how much adoration Ivan’s eyes seemed to hold when they were fixed upon Alfred.

“God, that was so embarrassing. She gave me a stern talking-to about respecting other people’s property for like, twenty minutes,” Alfred laughed, laying his hand down on the table.

Arthur laughed as well. “That was the best part!”

“He is still nearly as clumsy,” Ivan said. “I once watched him walk into a glass door.”

“Hey, that door was unfairly clean! I mean, you gotta have a few smudges or something,” Alfred protested.

Ivan laughed. “Don’t worry, it was very cute,” he replied, and Arthur watched with disdain as the man inched his palm across the table, resting it directly next to Alfred’s.

For the rest of their meal, Arthur watched with rapidly growing horror as Ivan’s hand bumped against Alfred’s every so often. Finally, the man nudged Alfred’s pinky finger with his own, and Alfred hesitantly hooked his pinky around Ivan’s. It was hardly noticeable, and neither man said anything of it, but their flushed cheeks and sheepish smiles made it abundantly clear that there was something between them.

Arthur tried not to be jealous–really, he did. He had no claim to Alfred. He hadn’t even seen the man in twelve years! Yet he couldn’t fight the rapidly growing jealousy that pooled in his chest, the strange feeling of want for Alfred. He wanted to be the one to make Alfred blush like that, he wanted to be the one to sit and sip coffee in a cafe with his pinky wrapped around Alfred’s. Christ, was this what Alfred had felt like in high school? Was this his punishment for rejecting the man all those years ago? It certainly seemed like it.

Still, Arthur kept his jealousy under wraps and for the next five months he and Alfred met up for lunch or an outing without further incident. It was easy to put Ivan out of his mind since Alfred had yet to bring up the man, and Arthur had almost entirely forgotten about it when, while sitting in Alfred’s office with him, eating lunch together, Ludwig entered.

“Alfred, do you have any–Arthur?” Ludwig halted halfway into the room, seeming surprised to see two of his friends together.

Alfred looked up from his Lo Mein and smiled. “Hey, Ludwig! Do I have a what?”

“I was going to ask if you had a whiteboard marker. I didn’t realize you and Arthur knew each other.”

“Alfred and I were friends in high school,” Arthur answered with a smile.

Ludwig blinked in surprise. “ _You’re_ the Arthur he had a crush on in high school?”

Arthur couldn’t help but to feel proud of the fact that Alfred had mentioned him to his friends. “The very same,” he said with a satisfied smirk.

Alfred, who had been rummaging around in the disorganized drawers of his desk, held out a marker to Ludwig and grinned. “Yeah, yeah, I had a giant crush on Arthur a billion years ago, we get it,” he rolled his eyes teasingly.

“Thank you,” said Ludwig as he accepted it. “Since you are both here, I suppose now is a good time to invite you to our house for a dinner party next weekend. Alfred, I know you usually hate these things but Feliciano wants to have an early Christmas party before we go back to Europe for the Holidays and we would love to have you. Ivan will be there.” Ludwig said, smiling knowingly.

Arthur suppressed a groan, knowing immediately that the night would be hellish for him based on Alfred’s sheepish blush.

“Okay,” Alfred agreed, “I’m in.”

Ludwig turned. “Arthur?”

The man in question forced a smile to his face and nodded despite the dread pooling in the pit of his stomach. “Yes, of course.”

* * *

As Arthur stood outside of Ludwig and Feliciano’s door adjusting his tie, he thought dimly upon a night spent watching Alfred and Ivan flirt endlessly. By now, Arthur was well aware that he had feelings for Alfred that went past a simple infatuation. He wanted Alfred. Badly. So badly, in fact, that he couldn’t bear the thought of the younger man with anyone else–least of all Ivan. It was a small comfort to know that Alfred and Ivan’s relationship hadn’t progressed at all since the first time Arthur had met him, but he knew that that could change at any moment.

Finally, Arthur decided he’d been stalling long enough and mustered up the courage to knock on the door. Almost immediately it swung open and he was greeted by a happy Feliciano, who pulled him closer and kissed him on the cheek before ushering him inside. “Come in, come in, everyone else is already here!” He exclaimed cheerfully as he pulled Arthur further into the house.

Arthur was quickly engulfed in the crowd, greeting various friends with smiles and polite conversation even as his gaze wandered in search of Alfred. He finally caught sight of the man standing in the living room speaking animatedly, a glass of white wine in his hand. He looked absolutely dashing in a pair of black slacks and a deep red sweater, both of which hugged his body in all the right ways, perfectly accentuating his thick, muscular figure.

Arthur made his way through the crowd and approached Alfred and the group of people surrounding him. Alfred beamed at the sight of him, greeting Arthur with an excited cry of the man’s name and an enthusiastic hug which made Arthur’s cheeks burn.

“Don’t mind him, he’s already tipsy from the wine,” came a familiar voice from behind Alfred, and Arthur looked up to see Alfred’s twin, Matthew, standing behind him.

Alfred pulled back and pouted. “Dude, I’ve only had like, two glasses. Can’t I be excited to see a friend?”

Matthew rolled his eyes, pointedly ignoring his brother. “Hello, Arthur. How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you. It’s good to see you! It’s been a while.” Arthur said, smiling pleasantly. He’d always liked Matthew–he was even tempered and kind–but Arthur knew there was a sharp wit and a strong will hidden behind his soft voice and gentle demeanor.

“It has, hasn’t it? It feels like yesterday that I was starting high school, and all of a sudden…”

“You got old,” Arthur filled in with a chuckle. “Wait until you turn thirty.”

“Wait until you’re nearing _forty_!” Feliciano cried as he appeared behind Arthur, Ludwig at his side.

“I still can’t believe that. You and Lovino barely look old enough to drink!” Alfred said.

“The hell’s that supposed to mean? Are you saying I have a baby face?” Huffed Lovino.

Feliciano laughed aloud and patted Alfred on the arm. “Thank you, Alfred. Dinner’s ready, everyone! Come sit down!”

Everyone filed out of the living room, Arthur falling into step beside Alfred. “Where’s Ivan?” He asked, unable to help himself.

Alfred shrugged. “Said he couldn’t make it,” he replied, seeming unphased by Ivan’s absence. He smiled happily at Arthur as he took a seat beside him.

For an hour the large table was filled with enthusiastic conversation as everyone ate and talked amongst each other. When it was finally over, Feliciano encouraged everyone to mill about while he and Ludwig cleared the table for dessert. Alfred nudged Arthur’s arm and jerked his head in the direction of a doorway, beckoning for Arthur to follow him. Arthur did so curiously, trailing him into a hallway littered with photographs. Arthur had been to Ludwig and Feliciano’s home several times before, but he’d never spent much time looking at the photographs hung on the walls. Alfred smiled and pointed to one.

“Here I am in their wedding.” Alfred said, smiling fondly.

Arthur leaned in closer and smiled at the image of Alfred standing in a line of men to Ludwig’s side, his eyes fixed somewhere in the distance–presumably upon Feliciano walking down the aisle. Arthur turned his gaze upward, noting that Alfred was staring at the photograph with a dreamy smile.

“It must be nice to be married,” Alfred said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “I hope I get married one day.”

“You will,” Arthur blurted before he could stop himself.

Alfred looked to him, his smile soft and amused. “You think so?”

“Of course,” Arthur answered, deciding there was no use trying to turn back now. “One day someone is going to fall in love with you, and you’re going to fall in love with them too, and once that happens they’d be a fool to ever let you go.”

Alfred smiled down at him, eyes sparkling. “Thanks, Artie.”

Arthur nodded, marveling at the sweet, soft look in Alfred’s eyes. It was clear that he was sincere about his desire to get married, and he looked so beautiful and wistful that Arthur damn near took a knee right then and there, wanting more than anything to make Alfred happy.

“Should we go talk to everyone?” Alfred suggested.

Arthur nodded and the pair walked out of the hallway, only for Arthur to stall in the doorway, realizing very suddenly that he didn’t want to rejoin the other guests. He wanted to keep being alone with Alfred, to sit there and watch him smile wistfully at their friend’s wedding photos and pay him the compliments he deserved.

“Actually, I’d rather like to see some more of the–”

“Uh-oh, everyone, look what Alfred and Arthur are standing under!” Called Feliciano from the dining room, drawing the attention of all his guests.

Alfred and Arthur both raised their eyes as a chorus of whistles and teasing “ooo’s” sounded. At the sight of mistletoe, Arthur’s face flushed crimson and he looked to his friends, sputtering indignantly.

“C’mon you two, give us a kiss!” Called Antonio Carriedo from beside his boyfriend, and emphasized his words by hooking an arm around Lovino’s waist, dragging him into a kiss.

“Yeah, guys, c’mon!” Called Gilbert Beilshmidt.

Arthur turned toward Alfred, surprised to find that the man was simply gazing at him with a sheepish smile.

“Are you alright with this?” Arthur asked gently.

Alfred shrugged. “Sure, ‘s just a kiss. My sixteen-year-old self would kill me if I didn’t,” he laughed.

Arthur was a bit disheartened by Alfred’s casual demeanor, but only for a moment. In the next, Alfred was leaning forward and his breath hitched and his heart started racing and it was all Arthur had not to wrench Alfred into him. Instead, he shuffled closer and tilted his head up, leaning gently into Alfred as his eyes fluttered and closed. A warm hand cupped his cheek, and then a pair of incredibly soft lips were on his and every thought Arthur had disappeared, replaced by a desperate need to kiss Alfred for the rest of his life.

Unthinking, Arthur raised an arm and gripped the side of Alfred’s sweater, tugging him a bit closer. Alfred took the hint and shuffled forward a step, pressing their chests together. Arthur smiled against his lips and raised his hands to cup Alfred’s face in his hands–only to jerk back when Alfred pulled away, grinning up at his friends. Arthur turned toward the crowd and watched as his friends broke into applause and wolf-whistles. Alfred dissolved into laughter at Arthur’s side and clapped his hand on Arthur’s back, prompting him to walk further into the room.

Arthur could hardly think long enough to tell himself to move, and when he did his legs felt like putty beneath him. His mind was fuzzy and he was so dizzied by Alfred’s kiss that he moved in a daze, approaching Ludwig with his cheeks still beet red and his body practically humming with content.

“You and Alfred seem to get along well,” said Ludwig coolly.

Arthur blinked as though being jerked from a trance. “Yes, I suppose so,” he said distractedly, busy replaying the moment over and over in his mind.

“You would make a good couple.”

This jerked Arthur out of his daydream and he blinked. “Wh-What?!” He cried, flustered, immediately looking around to see if anyone had heard.

“You don’t think so?” Asked his friend, brows raising.

Arthur felt himself getting flustered. “W-Well, no! I–I don’t know whether he and I would make a good couple. Wh-What makes you say something like that?”

Ludwig was as calm as ever as his gaze drifted away from Arthur. The Brit followed his eyes and saw Alfred standing across the room, laughing happily and surrounded by friends. “You suit each other,” he replied easily. “Can I give you some advice, Arthur?”

The Brit blinked at him. “Er–yes, of course.”

“I have known Alfred for a long time, and I know him well enough to know that he wouldn’t have kissed you like that if he really did it simply because of the mistletoe. My advice to you is to tell him you feel sooner rather than later. Ivan is going to make a move soon and I don’t like him nearly as much as I like you. For your sake and Alfred’s, make your feelings known.”

Arthur sputtered. “H-How did you know that I-I–?”

Ludwig offered him a rare smile. “I have known you a while too, Arthur.”

With that, Ludwig walked away, leaving Arthur to his thoughts. Feliciano announced that dessert was ready, and Alfred quickly swept Arthur into conversation as he and his friends made their way back to the table.

Arthur spent the rest of the night walking around, mingling with guests. He lost track of Alfred for a while–the party was winding down and the guests had separated into a few small groups around the house, most drunk or at least halfway there. Arthur had remained sober, not wanting to do anything embarrassing in front of Alfred, and he knew that Alfred would be too as he had mentioned that he didn’t like to drink very much.

Thus, Arthur was a bit surprised when Alfred approached him at the end of the night with a sheepish smile. “Hey, Artie. Can you give me a ride home?”

Arthur blinked. Alfred didn’t seem like he was drunk, or even tipsy. Still, if Alfred didn’t feel safe to drive, Arthur wasn’t going to turn him away. “Of course–are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m sober. It’s just that Mattie and I carpooled together in his car, and I’m pretty sure he and Gilbert are gonna go back to his place…” Alfred’s eyes drifted off and Arthur followed his gaze to the couch, where he was surprised to see Gilbert and Matthew seated, Gilbert straddling Matthew as the two kissed passionately.

“Ah,” Arthur said, quickly averting his eyes, “I see. Yes, I’ll give you a ride home. Do you want to leave now?”

“If you’re good to, then yeah,” Alfred said.

Arthur nodded. “I was just about to say goodbye,” he said, and so he and Alfred bid their friends goodbye and, within five minutes, Arthur found himself entirely alone with Alfred for the second time that night.

“Man, that was a fun party,” Alfred said as Arthur began to drive. “Now I kinda regret not going to more. Are they all like that?”

“For the most part, yes. There was one rather awkward night when we all got a bit too drunk and started playing strip poker, though…” Arthur said, wincing at the memory.

Alfred laughed aloud. “Man, I dunno what you’re talking about, that sounds fun as hell! I wish I would’ve been at that one for sure!”

Arthur smiled to himself. He suddenly wished Alfred had been there, too–but it was a good thing he wasn’t, really. He could only imagine what the sight of an alcohol-flushed Alfred slipping out of his clothing item by item would have done to him.

“It was a really great party, though,” Alfred said.

“I agree. Feliciano and Ludwig always throw nice parties. And Feliciano’s cooking is always amazing, of course.”

“Dude, you can say that again. When I tasted that tiramisu I thought I literally died and went to heaven. I’m like, seriously jealous of Ludwig for getting to eat like that every day,” Alfred laughed, and Arthur laughed with him.

“Me too. I’m a terrible cook.” Arthur said, a rare admission.

“Remember that time you started a fire in Home Ec?” Alfred asked.

Arthur’s cheeks went hot. “That was one time!”

“It was _twice_.”

“Y-You weren’t much better! Kiku told me you dropped an entire pot of spaghetti once.”

“Okay, first of all, the handles were slippery, and second of all, Yao gave me jumper cables while I was holding it! Not my fault,” Alfred replied, laughing heartily. “Man, high school was fun…”

“Mhm,” Arthur agreed, smiling fondly. “You certainly made my last year memorable.”

“Thanks, man.” Alfred laughed. Silence fell over them for a second and then Alfred said, “Hey, Artie?”

“Yes?”

“I never asked–did you say no because I was too young?”

Arthur’s heart dropped, suddenly feeling guilty. He’d forgotten that part–that he’d apologized to Alfred and refused him without ever giving him an explanation as to why he couldn’t return his feelings.

“No,” Arthur replied. “I don’t want to offend you, Alfred.”

“Dude, it’s no problem. I’m not gonna be offended, I swear. I’m over it. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t wanna, I was just curious–”

“No, I… I want to explain it to you. I just… At the time, I saw you as this young, directionless boy with no goals, no serious plans… And there’s nothing wrong with that, especially at sixteen, but–well, I was graduating and moving on, and I didn’t want to be held back, I suppose.”

“Huh. That makes a lot of sense.”

“Yes, I suppose, but…”

“But?”

Arthur pulled into Alfred’s driveway and parked the car, then twisted in his seat to face the man. “But I wish I hadn’t.”

“What?” Alfred asked, blinking in surprise. “Why not?”

“Because I…” Arthur paused a moment, summoning his courage. Then, he forced himself to look Alfred in the eye and said, with every ounce of sincerity he had, “I want to be with you, Alfred.”

For a moment, the younger man simply stared back at him. Then, his cheeks colored a gorgeous rosy red and he blinked rapidly. “You–you do?”

“Yes. And I know it’s probably too late, and I know I was an arse to you back then, but–”

“No, no, I–seriously, don’t worry about that. I gotta admit, I really wasn’t looking at you romantically, but when we kissed… I don’t remember the last time I felt like that from a kiss.”

Arthur smiled gently and reached out, laying his hand over Alfred’s. “Maybe… we should do it again. To make sure that what you felt was real, of course.”

Alfred grinned and rolled his eyes as he leaned in. This time, Arthur cupped Alfred’s face in his hands and kissed him eagerly, proud of the fact that Alfred seemed to be kissing him back with similar intensity. They kissed for much longer this time, and when Alfred pulled back he was beaming.

“Yep, definitely real feelings,” he chuckled, and Arthur didn’t hesitate to grab him by the collar and drag him forward for another.


End file.
